


Holly Humpabitch

by ButterBritches



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterBritches/pseuds/ButterBritches





	1. Chapter 1

Gail had never been to a Roller Derby bout before. It had been Andy's idea, and when Andy's band of lame rookiebots all agreed to give it a go, it was roller derby or boredom. If Gail was going to be completely honest though, she was not regretting the decision to break out of The Penny routine for a night. As soon as they walked in the old airplane hangar, she could tell that this was her kind of place. The music was loud and rowdy and the beer flowed like the sweet nectar of a happy God whose cup seriously flowethed over.

Once she had a beer securely in both hands, Gail followed Dov, Chloe, Chris, Andy and Traci into the stands. There were bleachers positioned around a round track that was angled up on the outside. Currently, in the middle of the track, a female-fronted punk band played with complete abandon, working the crowd toward an event-acceptable level of raucousness. Gail let the music settle into her as she took a couple of minutes to check out the scene and down one of her beers. She looked over the people in the stands, and then glanced over the group she would be associated with by anyone mirroring her own actions. 

"Relax Gail. Have another drink. Everyone knows you're merely gracing us with your presence to elevate our deficient coolness," Traci said as she leaned over and clinked her aluminum beer bottle with Gail's one remaining. 

"Yeah, Gail, have another drink." One of the guys in the group behind them extended his bottle forward to join their toast.

Traci and Gail looked at each other, rolled their eyes and turned away. Gail could heard the guy's friends rib him about the harsh blow off. 

As the song the band was playing came to an end, a man dressed in what appeared to be a burgundy crushed velvet suit walked up and took the mic from the lead singer. 

"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to tonight's TBTRD showcase hoedown between the Multiple Score-gasms and the Cunning Stunts."

The crowd hoots and hollers in anticipation, pumping fists and beers, and holding up signs for their favorite teams, and presumably, for individual skaters as well. The names of the skaters artfully adorning the sign are clever, catty, and some, downright raunchy. 

"We're going to get started with our live all-girl action in just a minute, but first safety and shout-outs."

Gail tuned the announcer out and turned to her friends. "I am going to grab a couple of more drinks before it starts. Anyone need anything?"

"Ooo. Dov and I will go with you." Gail swore Chloe sung the words.

"Yay." Gail's smile and overly sweet tone were dripping with sarcasm. She dropped the smile instantly into a scowl and added an eye roll for good measure before she beelined for the nearest beer stand. There were enough alcohol distribution points where the line wasn't too long, especially since she was still finishing off her second beer. Still ,Gail didn't want to stand in line. She was starting to feel a bit wired. The excitement in the venue was buzzing in her, as were the two beers she had now finished in a matter of 20 or 30 minutes. When Gail turned around to punch Dov in order to get further into the spirit of the pending event, she saw that Dov and Chloe were a couple people back in line. Lucky her though, Mr. Stick-My-Beer-Into-Your-Toast was right behind her. 

"Hi Gail. I'm Brad."

"Congratulations," she said as she gave up her spot in line to him and moved back to stand with King Dork and Polly Prissy Pants.

"I think he likes you, Gail." Chloe pokes Gail's arm and points toward Brad, who is smiling back at Gail.

"Wow. And I thought dreams couldn't come true."

"Come on, Gail. He's cute. You're single . . . "

Gail shuts Chloe up with a look that could destroy someone of lesser giddiness, who didn't eat rainbows and shit sparkles, which Gail assumed Chloe did.

The three of them get back to their spots in the bleachers just as the announcer is finishing up his schpiel about donations and league sponsorships.

"So," over enthusiastic toasting man leans over Gail's shoulder, "what are you and your friends doing after the bout?"

"Listen . . . Brett."

"Brad."

"Burt, these aren't my friends. And I am a lesbian. Not a bi-sexual. I don't do the boys. I am gay, gay, gay. And happy. About being gay."

Brad looks unconvinced. "Are you here with your girlfriend?" he asks gesturing his head towards Traci.

Traci is watching the conversation with amusement and definitely looking interested in seeing how Gail responds.

"She wishes. She's my ex. She's cute, but soooo bossy. I just couldn't get it through to her that I was the captain of our ship." Brad looks surprised. 

For emphasis, Gail adds, "It was hard letting her go because the sex was so great."

Traci laughs and shakes her head. Gail is having a little too much fun so Traci decides to play along.

"Yeah, I was really hurt at first, but then I realized that Gail needs to believe she is the dominant one in a relationship. I just challenged her too much, so we weren't a good match romantically. It's ok, though. Now we're really good friends. I understand that Gail needs to lord her dominance over someone and that's why I am here supporting her and her new girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend is a skater?"

"Uh-huh," Gail replied shooting Traci the vendetta glare.

The announcer, thankfully, chooses that time to start announcing the teams. One skater at a time they shoot out from behind the stands. The announcer is giving them kitschy intros and calling out their names with over-the-top enthusiasm. Names like Ivanna RideHer, Magna Cum Loudly, and Sister Mara Grita.

"She's a speed freak with a mean streak and is well on her way to being league MVP, ladies and gentleman, prepared to get banged by Holly Humpabitch!"

The crowd goes nuts and Gail understands why. Holly is tall, tan, and lean. The other skaters looked good, but they still made skating look like it took a little work. There was a stutter here, or stumble there. But not with Holly. She glided around the track with effortless fluidity, blowing kisses to the fans.

"Which skater is your girlfriend?" Gail barely hears what's-his-nuts ask. 

"Her," Gail says quietly, almost to herself, as she looked out at the track, at Holly.

"Hey Gail, why don't you tell Bud"

"Brett"

". . .Bart how Holly got her name?" Traci encouraged.

"I'm Russian. We're married," Gail said still shamelessly ogling her wife.

As soon as Holly gets to the middle of the track and joins her team, one of the referees blows the whistle. The announcer yells, "Who's ready for some girl-on-girl?" as the skaters mob the track to claim their spots.


	2. Chapter 2

She was a raven-haired shell of cocky athleticism. She spun, jumped, ducked, crouched and destroyed. She always got through the mass of very angry women beating the shit out of each other before the other point scorer which, Gail learned from the demo before the bout started, was called a jammer. Holly would burst out the front of the pack, spin around and arch an eyebrow and give her smug “You seriously thought you stood a chance?” smirk and called off the jam. Gail loved to watch Holly call of the jam. It was a thing of beauty. Jams were stopped when the first jammer through the pack put her hands on her hips. When Gail read it in the program, it seemed like an innocuous enough gesture but Holly turned it into a silent, but blatant, “eat me”. She started the gesture from head height and brought it down like a karate chop, the side of each hand resting, not on the side of her hips, but just inside her hip bones, fingers pointing down and in for extra emphasis. This gesture was usually immediately followed by another gesture for the sake of the crowd. The follow-up gesture usually depended where on the track Holly was when she called it off and what the crowd’s reaction was. 

The fans for each team were relatively even in number, and were grouped by the teams they were rooting for. The end of a jam resulted in a delineated emanation of boos and hoots that reverberated off the metal walls of the hangar as a roar. Holly was clearly a fan favorite. The crowd loved her or loved to hate her. Either way, she gave them a show. Holly would blow kisses to her fans or slap their hands under the rail as they gathered around after an especially impressive jam. In Gail’s mind though, Holly’s best showmanship was reserved for her enemies. She mixed it up a bit and mostly kept it proportionate to the level of hating she received. Sometimes she would settle for just flashing them her middle fingers, nodding her head in self-satisfied victory. This was a Holly Humpabitch blow-off. That's what Gail labeled it as. When the crowd was louder and more fervent with their gestures, she would align her skates, one facing forward, one backwards, with her ass out toward the crowd so she could lift her skirt to all the jeerers. This gesture was often accompanied by a kiss, applied to her fingers and slapped to her ass – the Holly Humpabitch spank, so deemed by Gail. Finally, there was Gail’s personal favorite. When the crowd was just downright off-the-hook rowdy, Holly would skate facing them, tongue flicking in and out of her victory fingers.

“Okay, Gail” Chloe yelled from three rookies down. “What do you call that one?”

“Well, Chloe, I think this particular display deserves more than a simple label, don’t you?” Gail tilts her head as if she’s talking to a toddler or a puppy. “This is a statement, and an important one that you may be unfamiliar with since you are from tiny, shiny people land. This woman,” she points at Holly with two fingers, “this artist is not just trying to get ice cream from between her fingers as I suspect that is what you think is happening here. Do you see ice cream, my pretty princess? No. The message her action so eloquently, yet powerfully, conveys is, ‘If you can’t beat it, eat it’. And, once again this is not about ice cream or whatever else sustains the people of your species.” 

"Mmmm, ice cream." Chloe's response is so grossly innocent.

“Come here, I don’t want to yell this,” she urges Chloe while leaning in towards her.

Chloe obeys, leaning across Andy to get closer. Gail puts her hand up to hide her mouth as if she is telling a secret.

“Pussy!” Gail yells and almost causes Chloe to fall off the bench in surprise. Unfortunately for Gail, Dov catches her.

Chloe shakes her head but immediately resumes smiling as her eyes return to the track.

The rest of the bout passes in a beer- and Holly-induced haze for Gail. Holly is un-fucking-believable. Other skaters fall. Other skaters brawl. But Holly, Holly is fast, fluid, and agile allowing her to avoid a lot of the clashes. This doesn’t mean, as Gail witnesses a few times during the bout, that Holly is afraid to lay down the hurt when she needs to. In one jam she actually jumps a tussle that was just breaking out, only to pile drive it the next lap when it became a 3-woman skirmish – two of them to one of hers. That particular battle ended with Holly holding another skater’s head down while she air humped her and twirled a fake lasso over her head. 

“You are a very lucky woman,” Traci said, teasingly elbowing Gail in the arm.

“Hey, it’s a Russian thing.” Gail shrugs.

“Wait, Holly is Russian too? What’s her maiden name?”

“Humpaho,” Gail says without delay.

“Nice.” Traci laughs.

Holly’s team wins the bout, not by a landslide, but by an impressive margin. As the Score-gasms skate their victory lap, the rookiebots huddled to come up with phase two of the night. Between Andy's incessant chatter about the awesomeness of the bout, and Chloe's persistent ramblings about Dov and ice cream, not much planning had actually occurred when the emcee broke through the rumblings of the crowd.

"Hey roller derby fans, the Score-gasms will be out in the concessions and merchandise area momentarily. Now's your chance to get an autograph or a picture with your favorite skaters. Also, don't forget to stop by the merchandise booth for all the latest Score-gasm fashions. And, for you over-21 fans, join the Score-gasms and the Cunning Stunts at the after-party at the Black Penny tonight at 9:00 PM. Get up-close and personal, and possibly slightly inebriated with the most hardcore athletes in the city."

Chris looked up with puppy dog eyes. "Come on you guys. This could be fun."

The idea of a crowded bar full of rowdy derby fans wasn't really working for Gail, although a little streak of Holly shone through the blackness of drunk douches.

"No way," She said firmly with what she hoped was grave seriousness.

"Gail, come on. This is your kind of crowd you former half-goth freak." Dov covered his balls as he spoke the words. Chloe elbowed him from the side.

"Yeah, and I want to learn more about the sport. I think I might want to join," Andy chimed in.

"And," Chris added, "delicious, intoxicating alcohol and a possibly drunk Holly Humpabitch."

Gail just rolls her eyes. "Can we get out of here, please?" Noncommital was the best they were going to get for now.

They are making their way out when Andy and Chloe get distracted by the merchandise. 

"Hey guys, can you wait a few minutes? Chloe and I are going to buy shirts."

"I'll only wait if you get Dov a purple tube top that says 'Roll out with your hole out'." Gail flashes Dov a fake evil smile.

"Well, Gail, since I drove, you will wait even without the promise of laying your eyes on my sexy man chest."

"Ooo. You're right Dov. I heard that concave is the new sexy. It's no wonder you have asthma. There's no room for your lungs when your sternum is touching your spine."

They have a momentary glare-off before Gail decides Dov's ineptitude at glaring is annoying. She starts looking around the outside of the hangar. There are a lot of skaters from Holly's team out and around, talking with their fans, signing programs, and taking pictures. On initial glance, Gail doesn't see Holly, not like she was looking or anything. As she wanders away from her friends Holly comes into view. She is just around the curve, out of site to Gail's previous position. Holly is surrounded by fans. It looks like she has been to the locker room, because she is now sans helmet and wrist guards, although she still has the rest of her pads and her skates on. Her hair, although still a little damp along her face, is as long, smooth, shiny, and just generally as beautiful as Gail suspected it would be. 

What the fuck is wrong with me? Gail is annoyed by her diminished bitchy super-powers where Holly is concerned.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Traci speaks right next to Gail's ear from behind, catching her by surprise.

"Jesus, Trace. Nothing, I'm not looking at anything. You know, I'm just checking stuff out."

"Any stuff in particular that you're checking out." Traci laughs and Gail just rolls her eyes. Still, she automatically turns her head back to find Holly again.

"Oh shit."

"What?" Traci asks as she follows Gail's line of sight to see what has rained on Gail's creeper parade.

There, talking to Holly is what's-his-nuts and crew. They gesture repeatedly over towards Gail while talking exuberantly. Holly has a smile on her face that Gail can't quite decipher. It is bigger than small but short of an outright grin. And it is so beautifully lopsided. Beautifully lopsided? Seriously? Gail shakes her head, trying to expel the mushiness from her head and chest. When she refocuses, Holly is looking right at her. She is nodding her head as the group of men keep talking to her. She looks back at them, nods some more, and glances back and forth between them and Gail. Finally, she takes a skating stride toward Gail and Traci as she looks back over her shoulder giving the guys a gesture letting them know she would be back momentarily.


	3. Chapter 3

Holly comes to a stop in front of Gail. With her skates on, Holly is an Amazon, well over 6 feet tall. This combined with the fact that Holly was some roller derby superhero Gail had woven into a web of lies might have been somewhat intimidating to Gail if Holly wasn't grinning like she was so genuinely happy to see her. 

"Hi." Holly's voice is also smiling. 

And just like that, Holly reaches out, cups Gail's face and presses their lips together. It is brief and so soft. And sweet, not just in a cutely pleasant way, but also in the way that Gail suspects Holly's lips were actually made of powdered sugar. 

"If you want this to work you are going to have to look a little less shocked and a bit more girlfriend-like. I haven't had one in awhile, but I seem to remember that, at least in the beginning, they would actually smile at me."

Gail reaches up around the back of Holly's head, pulling her back down for another kiss. This kiss is a bit more . . . more. Though not heated, it wouldn't be confused as a friendly peck by any one who saw it, including What's-His-Nuts and crew. This time as she breaks the kiss, Gail lets her lips close slightly around Holly's bottom lip, really trying to get a taste of the sweetness. 

Holy shit. Holly didn't just taste like powdered sugar, she tasted like powdered donuts. 

"Mmmm." Gail didn't meant to make the noise, but she really loved donuts. When she opens her eyes, Holly still has hers closed. Now Gail smiles. Holly was adorable. Traci let a single breath of a laugh escape. Gail looks over to see her friend shaking her head and looking down at the ground.

"Is Holly Humpabitch your real name?" Gail asks Holly, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes to convey her suspicion that it is indeed not Holly's real name.

Holly laughs at her. 

"It isn't. My real name is Wanda Humpabitch."

"I thought as much." Gail looks at Holly's smile. It is so endearingly crooked, and just so authentic. Everything about Holly feels warm and open. She makes Gail feel comfortable, and that is something new.

Traci elbows Gail, encouraging her to stop the creepy stare-fest and get on with whatever is going to happen here.

"My name is Holly. My friend Brad over there tells me that you are Gail."

"I am, and this is Traci . . . "

"Your ex." Holly smiles. "Brad rambled a little when he was apologizing for hitting on my girlfriend."

"Hi Holly." Traci extends her hand which the brunette immediately takes.

"It's nice of you to be so nice to me considering the pretend circumstances." Holly jokes.

"Hey, no hard feelings. Gail really needed someone more submissive so clearly you are a much better match for her." 

Holly's mouth falls open a little before the left side pulls back up into a a smile.

Traci winks at Gail, who punches her arm in return. 

"Ow. What? I just thought Holly should benefit from my pretend heartbreak otherwise it was all for nothing."

"Yeah," Holly adds in, "plus Brad and his friends want a picture of me and you."

"What? Why do they want a picture with me in it?"

Holly chuckles at that. 

"Have you seen you? I actually think they could care less if I was in the picture."

"That's ridiculous Holly. Clearly it's you who hasn't looked in a mirror. You're beautiful. And a badass."

This time it's Traci's mouth that's open. 

"Gail, did you just give a compliment? No wait, correction, two compliments?"

"Statements of fact are not compliments, Trace."

While Gail is sorting out whether Traci has been sufficiently chastised, she feels a hand lightly grasp her own. 

"Gail."

Snapped back into present time and place by Holly's warm fingers, Gail fights the urge to pull her hand away from the contact. It isn't that it isn't welcome, it is simply unfamiliar. Gail has held hands with men before, lovers and boyfriends, but it was usually just an empty tether. It always felt more like a demonstration of claim then the creation of a circuit. But here Gail was, physically connected to a woman she didn't know, and it felt like a current coursed through her veins that lit butterflies in her stomach on fire.

"Gail?" Holly tilted her head, reinforcing the confusion in her expression. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about zombies"

More confusion. 

"You should never set a zombie on fire because then you just have a flaming zombie who can not only still eat you, but can also set you on fire. Plus burning zombies smell bad." 

This all made sense to Gail as she segued from her burning butterflies, to burning zombies, to thinking Holly Humpabitch would be a kickass partner a zombie apocalypse. Totally logical.

"You're weird." Holly still looks confused but also amused. 

"You have no idea." Traci steps away as she says it, not quite ready for another Peck punch.

"Anyway, we should get over there and do this photo thing. I have to meet my team at the after party soon." Holly squeezes Gail's hand gently, before tugging her in the direction of the group of men waiting for them.

"Traci, are you coming?" Holly asks, looking back.

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this to save my life."

"I'll remember you said that." Gail gives Traci the evilest squinty eyed look she can while she feels so glowy on the inside.

The guys are standing around drinking beers and laughing about who cares what when the Humpabitches and friend get close. King What's-His-Nuts (deemed so by Gail as he is the obvious leader of the bunch of male nondescripts and because she can't remember his name) is the first to notice them. He clears his throat in that annoying "here they come" way, setting off a wave of elbows and sounds aimed at drawing everyone's attention to the approaching trio.

"Hey guys. This is my girlfriend Gail, formerly known to you as Gail."

"I am sorry about earlier this evening. I really thought you were just giving me the blow off." King What's-His-Nuts says to Gail somewhat convincingly.

"I was, and would have even if Holly wan't my girlfriend." 

Holly squeezes her hand again and sends a reverse cascade of warmth from her . . . gravity center outward. Apparently this surge disrupts a moment of reprieve lodged somewhere amongst the layers of coolness, nonchalance, and general disdain she has built over the years, because the words are out before her goodness filter can catch them.

"Anyway, it's fine. We're cool."

Damn it. Holly has reduced her to the Pilsbury Dough Boy of forgiveness and compliments. Well, maybe more like a Pez dispenser.

"Great. Do you mind if we get a couple of pictures?"

"Not at all." Holly puts her arm around Gail as a few of them, including Traci, whip out their phones.

Holly looks over at Gail who looks a little unsure. Sliding her arm from around Gail's shoulders to grip around her waist, Holly gives her another magic squeeze. Gail's eyes automatically shut as her lady bits light up like sparklers. 

"Now, Gail, Honey, you promised me you would smile. Do you remember when you said that? Right after I promised you that if you smiled we could try that thing we saw in that video that one time?"

Gail simultaneously blushes and smiles. This woman is ridiculous.

"Would you guys mind doing something a bit more, um, derbyesque?" Traci smiles sweetly at the two. "I mean, it's not everyday I have a photo op with Holly Humpabitch and my ex-girlfriend. I think I would prefer to stay away from the cuddly couple-style pics, if you know what I mean?"

"Oh, geez, Trace. I am soooo sorry. How inconsiderate of us. Sure, let us be more roller derby for you. I mean, I don't skate or anything, but I am sure Holly and I can work something out." The sugary voice and syrupy smile were the the thrust behind the dagger of sarcasm Gail wedges into Traci's faux broken heart.

Gail, puts a hand on Holly's shoulder and pulls her down so that she can place her lips to Holly's ear. She uses her other hand to shield her mouth and voice from the group. Holly listens intently, staring at the ground so as not to be distracted from Gail's proposal. Holly nods a couple time, each time her smile getting bigger. Finally, they break apart. 

"Ready?" Gail asks.

"Get along little doggy," Holly says in confirmation.

Traci wanted roller derby, Gail would give her and five nut-o-teers roller derby in the dazzling form of the photogenic representation of the visual manifestation of the one and only Holly Humpabitch.

Gail bends over and puts her hands on her knees. She arches her back so as to make her ass as prominent as possible. It would, after all, be the center of the photo and the target of Holly's hips. Gail imagines they are beautiful hips, straining taught tan skin to contain them, inviting Gail to lick them . . . 

Gail abruptly snaps back to reality as Holly's fingers grip inside of her own hip bones. Those fingers. . . If Gail wasn't sure how she felt about Holly, the sealing of Holly's front to Gail's back answers the question in the form of a rush of wetness between her legs. Gail Peck just juiced her jeans for Holly. Gail wanted Holly, wanted to know Holly, wanted to breathe, lick, and suck Holly, and wanted those fingers gripping her hip bones firmly right this second, to be touching her everywhere they could reach.

Holly squeezes Gail's hips a little firmer, reminding her of the plan. Gail lifts one of her hands from her knees and brings it to her mouth as she turns around to look at Holly in surprise. Holly stares down at her like the devil is within and is going to probe Gail's halo with her pitchfork until she wins her over to the darkside. 

"Holy shit. These pictures are awesome." They guys start giving each other high fives and laughing in man glee. Traci just looks at her phone, and then at Gail and Holly, and then back to her phone. 

"Hey, Gail. Are you and your friends going to the after party?" A random nutling asks.

"They are." Holly answers for her.

"Yes." What's-His-Nuts makes some dudely victory gesture. "See you guys there."

"Holly . . . "

"Gail, I have to hear about how we met." Holly smiles back over her shoulder as she skates away. "See you there, sweetie pie."

Gail can't do anything but watch her skate away.


	4. Chapter 4

Traci spent the short car ride to the bar filling Andy, Dov, Chloe, and Chris on the what they had missed at the hangar. 

"Wow, you kissed Holly?" 

"She kissed me, Andy."

"Not the second time," Traci adds as she maneuvers Chris's body to serve as a shield.

When Gail doesn't react, Traci takes out her phone and starts showing everybody the pictures of Gail and Holly.

"Look at you all smiling. You like her. I can totally tell." Chloe gushes the words out like she and Gail are besties. 

"Christ," Gail mutters, clenching her eyes shut to block out Chloe's smiling face. As nervous as she is to walk into the bar where Holly and her teammates and fans would be, the bar they were at the door of right this second, Gail's buzz was dying and there was an directly proportional relationship between her drunkenness and her ability to tolerate her friends. She needs booze stat. 

There was also the slightest chance that a tiny sliver of her nervousness was actually excitement about seeing Holly. 

"Holy shit, Gail. Do you think your girlfriend can introduce me around?" Chris asks, scanning the room they had just entered.

"Aw, Chris. If you had worn your white jeans you wouldn't need my fake girlfriend's help. What were you saying earlier? You gotta get back on that horse? There are plenty of guys here who look like they would have ponied up for a little bareback." 

She winks at him as he grimaces at the memory of the white jeans.

Actually Chris can probably bag a boy here even without the aid of his pale nut cutters. This place is teeming with people who look like they are definitely down for a good time in whatever form it offers itself. They look adventurous and rowdy. There is a definitely diversity and energy in this room that the places Gail and her friends frequent lack. Standing by the door looking around like they are actually makes Gail feel self-conscious and sadly mundane. Thank goodness a liquid remedy to this hiccup of a feeling seems to be flowing in mass quantities just a few strides away.

Without a word to her friends Gail starts to make her way to the bar. The journey itself starts to ease her feelings of inadequacy as she feels herself being the object of observation, rather than the subject. Clearly she attracts the bartender' attention as well because, despite the people gathered there before her, he makes his way to the small space Gail has commandeered.

"Two tequila shots."

Reestablishing the cool that is Gail Peck, she meets the icy stares of the patrons she has unintentionally bypassed with a look of smug confidence. Most people look away after a short while, but some men, and one women actually smile and wink after holding eye-contact momentarily. There is, however, one particularly angry looking woman now taking a step toward Gail with a look that conveys to Gail that she is about to be the recipient of an unsolicited piece of mind. The woman's progress is abruptly halted, though, as Holly slides in next to Gail, snuggly owning the space the woman was most likely destined for. 

"It looks like I am not the only thing my new girlfriend intends to dominate," Holly says glancing sidelong at the bartender offering Gail her tequila and then turning her head to look at Angry Woman #1 who quickly veers off course when she sees Holly.

"Hey Jeff." The bartender leans over the bar towards Holly. "This is Gail. Gail, Jeff."

The bartender smiles a cocky, hopeful smile. 

"The pleasure is all mine, Gail."

"It certainly is." 

Holly laughs and drapes her arm over Gail's shoulders.

"Jeff, not only is Gail too beautiful for you, she is also too taken. Tell him, Babe." Holly looks over at Gail, and gestures to Jeff with her head. "Go ahead, tell him your mine." 

"Wait, she's your girlfriend?"

Holly spins around, clearly surprised. A tiny teammate comes into Gail's sight as Holly's position shifts.

"Holy Holly, Doctor Magic Sauce. You are totally deep sixing my bet in the 'When Will Holly Bash Gash' pool."

"Nice. Real subtle, Amanda." As difficult as it is, Holly's golden skin has flushed red. 

"Amanda Blower, this is Gail." Holly shakes her head in disbelief as she introduces the brazen skater who has rendered her temporarily pink.

"Answer the question Humpabitch. Is she your main squeeze?"

"Gail!"

Now, it's Gail's turn to spin around. 

"Fuck."

King What's-His-Nuts actually waves at her as he approaches. In a bar. He waves. Traci, who has led him over, looks very self-satisfied.

Of all the clusterfucks that peppered the timeline of Gail's life, this was easily the most bizarre. Watching Chris, Chloe, and Dov round out the group that had formed in the proximity of Holly and her seals the deal; everyone who may possibly have any interest in this particular scenario is right fucking here. Gail leans over next to Holly's ear without taking her eye off the crowd.

"We're in a tight spot here, Holly."

"That's what she said."

Now Gail turns to look at her.

"Nicely played Holly. Fitting even. But 'she' is me and I prefer to have personal confirmation before making such declarations." 

The eye contact between them is intimate even in the midst of this shitshow. Gail wonders how this can be. How can someone she doesn't even know make her indifferent to the frustration of everything that is happening, everything that would normally gnaw away at her last nerve? And yet she can't pull her eyes away from Holly, who reciprocates the look that only the two of them exist. Unfortunately, it isn't the truth, and Amanda isn't done with her inquisition.

"So, Gail, how is my wife treating you?"

Gail looks back and forth between Holly and Amanda trying to be cool while figuring out what Amanda just said. She finally decides that a drink might help. Taking the two tequila shots off the bar, she offers one to Holly, clinking their glasses together in unspoken solidarity before downing the ounce and a half of liquid 'fuck it'. 

"Amanda is my derby wife." Holly offers knowing it doesn't mean a thing to Gail.

"You guys haven't been together long at all, have you?" Amanda asks amused.

"I should hope not, Gail only broke up with me a month and a half ago." Traci pipes in adding a new layer to the public spectacle.

She wants to play? Fine, we'll play. Gail kicks into full asshole mode.

"We were fading for months and you know it, Trace." Gail feigns sadness. "Besides, you should feel happy. Chris," she points to him "was right there to pick up the pieces of your heart."

"Shit." A guy in the back visually deflates as Chris is made unavailable by Gail's proclamation.

"Gail and Chris actually used to date a couple of years ago," Chloe chimes in to fuel this shitstorm of a story.

"That was before, Princess Buttercup here," Gail points at a brightly smiling Chloe, "lured him into a threesome with Dov." She points to him so that everyone can put a face to the name, hopefully keeping the discomfort of the lie rippling all night long.

"Yesssss." Chris's previously defeated man fan springs back to life with the revelation that the manly cop has shared a bed with another, less manly, man. 

Chloe, on the other hand, reacts like a grade school girl whose classmate has just told her that the Easter Bunny isn't real. At first her face radiates pure shock and betrayal, shortly after followed by a not entirely successful attempt to cover the initial honest reaction with indifference. Surprisingly though, in just a few more seconds, Chloe morphs from fake indifference to legitimate giddiness at the fake level of awesomeness she feels Gail's story has elevated her to.

Boo. Not Gail's intent.

"How are you guys still even friends?" one of Holly's teammates rightly inquires. 

Finally, an easy question.

"We aren't. I think it helps that we never really were to begin with. We just kind of hang out so we can feel good about ourselves, you know, " she gestures around the circle where her friends are, " in comparison."

A voice breaks through the "ooos" and "oohhs" and laughter Gail's frank admission has produced.

"Hey everyone, Officer McNally here is thinking about joining the Stunts."

Andy, who is talking to a couple of Holly's teammates off to the side, waves into the sea of hoots and hollers. The volume fades to bearable as Holly's team flocks over to Andy to sing the praises of roller derby.

"Wow, that spiraled out of control fast," Gail states matter-of-factly.

They both laugh at how simply Gail understates the absurdity that just played out. 

When they regain composure, a heavy silence drops around them. Once again they find themselves taking each other in. It isn't the casual up and down glance or hidden check-out that occurs to each of them frequently. Their eyes meet, and hold, and then drop to each others lips before they ascend once more.

Finally, Holly takes Gail's hand. 

Gail can't remember the last time she has held a female's hand. Grade school, maybe. Whenever it was, it didn't feel like this. Holly's fingers were long, and slender. They were warm and soft. They slid easily between Gail's.

"Come on, while they're distracted. Let's talk."


End file.
